


I can still keep loving you

by Chessala



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hanahaki Disease, Light Angst, M/M, Rivalry, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, lots of angry teenager swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-02-26 05:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13228785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chessala/pseuds/Chessala
Summary: After their dance-off, Katsuki hadn’t even looked at him anymore and had instead mooned at Viktor’s stupid face. Yuri’s hand unconsciously wanders up, rubbing his neck to ease the scratching. It's always bad when he thinks of Sochi, but it’s worse when he thinks of the banquet. Yuri is almost sure that he won’t see Katsuki next season again anyway, so why does he even bother with looking at his videos? And yet, he can’t get himself to push the laptop away and clicks the replay button instead.------------------It all starts with a scratching in Yuri's throat after he comes home from Sochi, just an annoyance during his training. But when Yuri follows Viktor to Japan and he keeps finding white petals on the floor after he coughs, things slowly start going out of control.





	1. Spring's Messenger

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year Everyone! Let's start off the new year with a doze of YuYuu that I hope everyone will enjoy since there definitely isn't enough of that!
> 
> This fic was supposed to be a one-shot but it's kind of growing too much! I'm hoping to finish it in 3 chapters but there is a possibility that it will grow...it all depends on Yuri!
> 
>  
> 
> **Not beta-ed**
> 
>  
> 
> Enjoy!

The scratching in Yuri’s throat starts right after the Sochi Grand Prix Final. Yuri isn’t even sure how he caught a cold but that’s what it must be. He hasn’t been careless, has made sure to wear his jacket, to stay warm. And yet he has this uncomfortable feeling in his throat, spreading down to his chest.

He might have trained a bit too much, might have snuck back on the rink in St. Petersburg a few times too often after Yakov had already thrown him out. But it had been worth the work, he had won the Junior Grand Prix. Not that it is worth anything seeing that he didn’t have to beat the old man to stand on top of the podium.

Yuri sighs and turns around on the bed, running his fingers through his cat’s, Potya’s, soft fur. The Grand Prix had finished weeks ago but the weird feeling in his throat just doesn’t want to go away. He hasn’t told Yakov anything. If he does, he is sure that he won’t be allowed to touch the ice until he has been declared cured by a professional. That’s something Yuri definitely doesn’t have the time to wait for, not if he wants to have a shot at beating Viktor in the upcoming season.

He clenches his unoccupied hand into a tight fist and slams it into the soft mattress of his bed, sending old junk food packages flying. He might have to rely on Viktor to make him a program for his debut but victory will be so much sweeter for it when he wins gold. When he closes his eyes, he already sees himself on top of the podium, grinning at Viktor on the step to his right, forcing him to look up to him, to Yuri. He can feel it in his toes, it’s his time to shine, to start a new era and show Viktor Nikiforov that his time is over.

All he has to do is get rid of this stupid cold. Yuri has considered asking a doctor but given his age, he would need a guardian to go. He hates being only fifteen, it makes everything so inconvenient. Not to mention that everyone still treats him like a child. But he is sure that will change once he shows them what he can do. While everyone praises him, he knows that no one really expects him to place very high - it’s his debut after all and he will be lucky to make it into the top ten. Just the thought makes Yuri see red. He will show them all - Mila, Georgi, Yakov and, most of all, Viktor fucking Nikiforov.

Next to him, Potya starts purring softly and a soft smile plays around Yuri’s lips as he listens to his only friend, the only creature that really believes in him.

“That’s right, we’ll show them what I can do - you and me together.”

Potya’s purring intensifies and Yuri pulls the cat closer to himself, burying his face in his long beige fur while sighing, suppressing the urge to cough. The cat’s warmth makes him feel better, makes him feel safe. He wants to call dedushka and ask him what to do but he knows that it will only worry him. He didn’t like the idea of Yuri living so far away, all on his own, but he didn’t stop him anyway. But when Yuri had looked through the window of the train when it left the station, he had seen dedushka’s face fall and his shoulder slack. Suddenly, dedushka had looked so old. And Yuri had understood that he couldn’t burden him any more than he already was.

So his mobile phone is lying next to him, untouched. Yuri curls up, wraps himself around the comforting warmth of his companion while he feels something tugging at his heartstrings when he thinks of Sochi again and then of the season ahead. He has never felt so excited for a new season before, hasn’t had real competition ever since he started competing in juniors. It isn’t arrogance, just a fact. Winning junior competitions felt boring and uninspiring. Sometimes he wonders if that is how Viktor feels when he wins yet another gold medal.

Yuri hates to admit it but Viktor is good, more than just good. His skating is special. It isn’t just the level of perfection in all his elements, though that definitely helps. It’s more than that. Viktor’s skating has depth, it’s inspiring, it makes you watch him until the end even if you dislike the person. And Yuri wants to be better than that. He wants people to look at him and forget that Viktor Nikiforov even exists, wants them to forget that there are other skaters that took the ice before him and that others will take it after him. He wants people to get lost in his performance, he wants Viktor to look at him and admit that Yuri is better than he has ever been.

It won’t be easy, he knows it, knows exactly what Viktor can do. Or at least that’s what he had thought until he saw his performance in Sochi. Whenever Viktor is on the ice, the cold surface transforms into a shrine that he worships. Every spin, every jump, every move, is a prayer talking about his love for skating and of his adoration for the audience. When the music stops, it’s as if you return from a different world and Yuri has always admired him for that. But there hadn’t been a prayer in Sochi. Worship transformed into a plea; for what Yuri didn’t know. Had the audience noticed? He doesn’t know but Yuri had known, had known it the moment Viktor’s golden blades touched the freezing cold of his stage.

He had wanted to scream at Viktor to pull himself together while he watched him beg on the ice, wanted to tell him that he has no reason to complain, that he has the world in his hands. Instead, he had endured his perfect spins, his incredible jumps and his graceful moves as they lacked their usual depths, performed by a shell of Viktor Nikiforov. The living legend that he would throw off the top of the podium so very soon. But even now, weeks after the Final, Yuri wishes he’d have the chance before Viktor fell into the abyss.

It’s funny in a way. Despite the score not giving any indication of Viktor’s fall, Yuri still thought that the person coming in 6th had outperformed the living legend. Katsuki Yuuri’s performance had been far from flawless - Yuri had an easier time counting the jumps he landed than the once he failed. And yet his performance had been so full of something that he now knew Viktor was starting to lose. Watching the Japanese skater go through a step sequence was like watching the sunrise in winter - it blinded you for a moment and then made you smile. It gave you the feeling of an early spring while there is still snow all around you.

Yuri’s hand unconsciously wanders up, rubbing his neck to ease the scratching. It’s always bad when he thinks of Sochi. But it’s worse when he thinks of the banquet, which he usually tries to avoid anyway. But now that his head is there, it’s hard to stop the memories from flooding his mind. He starts running his hands through Potya’s fur again to avoid them from clenching when he thinks of the way Katsuki had gotten drunk during an official ISU event. It had been pathetic and Yuri still doesn’t know why in hell he had joined the dance-off, just to be completely ignored when Viktor came into the picture. As usual.

After their dance-off, Katsuki hadn’t even looked at him anymore and had instead mooned at Viktor’s stupid face. It wasn’t fair, he had danced better than Katsuki, shouldn’t the man have at least paid him some attention? Instead, he had gone off to dance with Viktor. With him, not against him. Yuri is sure that if Katsuki hadn’t been so wasted, he and Viktor had ended up somewhere else - somewhere he doesn’t even want to think about.

Strangely enough, Viktor’s skating seemed to have recovered a bit after the Final. Yuri writes it off to the old man being fickle or maybe he is starting to be senile. He’s already 27, that’s as good as retired as far as Yuri is concerned. Which brings him back to the fact that he probably doesn’t have a lot of time left to beat Viktor. It’s now or never and never is not a concept that Yuri Plisetsky is willing to accept.

**********************

“Watch your free leg!” Yakov barks as Yuri drags himself through the third run of the beginning of a program he has no intention to use. Why is he even bothering? Viktor has promised to make him a program, after all. A program that will make Yuri’s senior debut unforgettable.

Yuri stops in the middle of the step sequence, enough is enough, he can’t stand this farce anymore. Ignoring Yakov’s protest, Yuri glides to the barrier and grabs his phone. His coaches voice has already turned into white noise while he browses the sports news, halting at an article about Katsuki Yuuri. Yuri snorts as he reads on about the supposed ace’s failure at his own nationals and the early end of the season. He had wondered if Katsuki would skate his program properly during worlds but obviously that is not something he should think about any longer.

For a moment, he remembers their encounter in the bathroom in Sochi. A grown man crying in a bathroom stall, what else was he supposed to do but set him straight? Really, if Katsuki gives up because of a few flopped jumps, he might as well retire, breathtaking step sequences be damned.

Yuri doesn’t manage to suppress the coughing this time so he muffles it against his arm as good as possible. It doesn’t work and Yakov is next to him in what feels like seconds.

“You’re sick.” his coach says with a deep frown. His hand presses against Yuri’s forehead and Yuri shoves it aside angrily.

“Fuck that, I just choked a bit.” he retaliates, sliding backwards to gain some distance from the glare Yakov is fixing on him.

“I don’t want to see you here for the rest of the week, it will be bad for you if you fall because of a cold.”

“I’m not sick!” Yuri as good as screams, clenching his hand around his phone. “You can’t force me to stay away!” The sentence is followed by a low growl and a face that Yuri hopes looks as defiant as he is trying to be.

“If I see you back here before Monday, you can pack and go back to your grandfather,” Yakov replies, voice unusually calm. That’s how Yuri knows he is serious. It’s easy to ignore Yakov’s shouting since that’s what he always does. But everyone at the rink knows that when he is quiet, it’s better to take a step back.

Yuri grits his teeth, biting back a reply he knows he would regret and nods. It’s Thursday, there are other ways to train than be at the rink for a few days. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He needs to get rid of this goddamn cough.

“Yura~” Yuri’s head shoots up at the mentioning of his name in the most annoying voice he can imagine. Always smiling, always energetic - that’s Viktor Nikiforov for you. Yuri is sure that he wouldn’t stay put because of a stupid cough.

“What do you want, old man?” Yuri says with less bite than he would have liked. He doesn’t want to deal with Viktor right now, not when he has his own problems to take care of. Strangely enough, Viktor doesn’t push and just looks him up and down for a moment. Yuri watches him shift his weight from one leg to the other in contemplation.

“You look pale.” he finally says, concern obvious in his voice. “Did you overdo your jump training again?”

“Didn’t even get to do fucking jumps…” Yuri mutters and shoots a glare at Yakov, who is already busy with Mila and has his back to them. When he turns back, Viktor is frowning at him but doesn’t say anything. He does that all the time, just looks at Yuri as if he is a child. The words leave his mouth before he can stop them. “What do you fucking care? Don’t you have someone else to bother?”

It happens so fast that Yuri almost thinks he is imagining it. Just for a split second, Viktor’s face falls and he looks so tired, so lonely, so old. When he blinks, it’s gone and Viktor looks at him with his usual smile again.

“But what would I do without my favourite kitten giving me motivation for the day?” he chirps but it sounds hollow to Yuri. Maybe he only imagined it, it’s Viktor after all. Yuri sighs and waves his hand dismissively at Viktor while turning around.

“Whatever, I don’t feel like putting up with your shit,” Yuri says more to himself than the man he is leaving behind. Even the sound of his skates on the ice seems to irritate him right now, it’s definitely Yakov’s fault. He angrily pushes his skate guards over the blades when he finally exits the rink. For a moment, his eyes wander back to the smooth surface, to the reflections of the big windows and the deep scratches they seem to make even more prominent.

It’s already Thursday he tells himself again, there are other ways to train for a few days. The words become a mantra as he hits the shower, hot water washing away the thin layer of sweat that’s covering his body. He closes his eyes and lets his mind wander, allows himself to get lost rather than fretting. It’s true that Yuri hasn’t felt entirely like himself. It’s as if something is constantly on the back of his mind, something that he can’t grasp no matter how hard he tries. Every time he thinks he is getting closer, it slips away again and Yuri can’t focus as well on his skating as he would like to.

It has to be because of Viktor. Being with Viktor has annoyed Yuri more these days than it used to. Every time they share the ice, Yuri is reminded of Viktor’s performance in Sochi - sickeningly perfect and yet so devoid of everything that makes Yuri feel so insignificant. Even now, watching Viktor skate doesn’t fill him with the same awe he used to feel. His program is all wrong, it’s been sitting badly with Yuri ever since he saw Viktor put it together. How dare Viktor beg when he already has the world at his feet? What else could he possibly want? What gives him the right to complain when even stupid drunk Japanese people find him more interesting than they find Yuri?

The sudden cough echoes through the shower before the sound of running water swallows it. He has been fine until now, until his thoughts drifted to Sochi and Viktor. Yuri knows somewhere that there is something else to it but the thought slips from his grasp the same way it always does, leaving a small lingering feeling of yearning behind. Yuri leans his head back and opens his mouth as wide as he can, letting the water run down his throat to drown the feeling and the burn the cough has left behind.

Yuri clenches his fists, opening his eyes against the falling spray. He’ll prove that he is Russia’s future - to Yakov, the reporters, Viktor, and to the stupid Japanese pig that dares to have the same name as him - he’ll show everyone. He is tired of people looking down on him and treating him like he will never rise out of Viktor’s shadow. He might have missed the possibility to break Viktor’s Junior record - but no one cares about those anyway. No, Yuri’s ambitions are higher than that. He doesn’t just want to be better than Viktor, he wants to destroy him. That’s what Viktor deserves for daring to look down on him, for pretending to be unhappy when he has everything Yuri ever wanted.

**********************

“You’re fucking  _ kidding  _ me!” Yuri growls, throwing his gym bag in the corner of the dance studio, barely missing the large row of mirrors. Ivan looks at him with an apologetic smile but doesn’t move out of his way.

“Sorry kid, order from the boss,” Ivan says with a shrug. “No training for you until Monday. You don’t even have to try anywhere else in the complex, Yakov made sure everyone knows.”

Yuri curses to himself and moves to get his bag, just to be blocked by the instructor again. He orders one of the dancers to get Yuri’s bag and dumps it unceremoniously in front of Yuri. After spending the rest of the previous day at home, all Yuri wants is to dance, let out some of the piled-up energy before he actually strangles someone. Yuri grabs his bag and makes an effort to stomp out of the studio. Of course Yakov would make sure that Yuri rests, all because of a small cough. He feels absolutely fine except for the small scratch, he doesn’t have to rest, he doesn’t have the time to rest.

Yuri considers booking some time in a dance studio in town but then decides against it, knowing full well that he would need Yakov’s written permission anyway. Being fifteen is nothing but a hassle but after Yuri beats Viktor at the Grand Prix, no one will look down on him anymore. Maybe Yakov will even give him the early morning ice time that has been reserved for Viktor ever since Yuri started training with him. The thought of seeing Viktor’s face fall when Yuri takes his place is exhilarating and for a moment Yuri actually forgets his predicament over it. Until he finds himself in front of the dorm that is, still unsure how he should make the next days go by.

After tossing his bag carelessly into a corner, Yuri throws himself on the bed, glowering at his skates. It feels as if the bag they are stored in is taunting him, hanging on the closet when Yuri has no way to take them up for days. He sits up and takes his laptop off the charger, placing it on his lap after getting comfortable. If he can’t train himself, he might as well research some of his competition apart from Viktor. Yakov can hardly keep him from doing that much at least.

Yuri lazily browses through the list of short programs from the Grand Prix, opening the links for Christophe Giacometti and Jean-Jacques Leroy. He knows Chris, of course, the eternal second, Viktor’s shadow. Objectively, Yuri knows that he is good and that his skating is solid. But Chris is two years younger than Viktor and has never managed to be ahead of the old man, so why would Yuri bother?

Jean-Jacques Leroy, however, is a different story. Yuri frowns when his screen is filled with the obnoxious Canadian. JJ had already left Juniors by the time Yuri was allowed to compete in them but Yuri has heard the stories nonetheless, has heard whispers of people calling JJ the next Viktor Nikiforov. At only 18, JJ has made it to third place in Sochi and even though Yuri hates to admit it, he knows JJ is good. The Canadian might be arrogant, but his confidence isn’t unfounded, a feeling that Yuri knows just too well.

Yuri sighs, reaching for the bag of potato chips next to his bed. He can almost hear Yakov scream at him for indulging like that but Yuri doesn’t care. If Yakov screws his training, Yuri can damn well screw his diet for a few days as well. Licking the chilli off of one of the chips, Yuri continues on to the video of JJ’s free skate. Yuri knows the Canadian will be much better in the coming season than he had been in Sochi. Yuri hadn’t even been allowed to perfect his quads yet. He curses to himself, closing the video mid-performance.

He doesn’t bother checking the videos for fourth and fifth. Yuri had seen their programs in Sochi, neither of them leaving an impression on him. Cao Bin had just announced his retirement after the World Championship anyway and Michele Crispino would probably be too busy mooning after his stupid sister. Yuri is also sure that no one that didn’t even manage to make it to the podium could possibly be any competition.

Yuri keeps scrolling through the list of suggested videos, refusing to watch any of the fifty angles people had uploaded Stammi Vicino in. He had seen Viktor’s program too many times already. On top of it, Yuri considered his performance in Sochi lacking at best. He is about to close the website and just watch something else when his cursor stops on the link to a video that definitely isn’t Viktor.

**[GPF Sochi] Yuri Katsuki - Free Skate**

Yuri remembers Katsuki’s performance, knows exactly that the Japanese skater won’t be a threat. He opens the link anyway, extending the player to fullscreen mode and putting in his earphones. The music Katsuki had used wasn’t anything special, it didn’t even fit him very well. The piece is too fast, too intent on making an impression for someone as plain as Katsuki. And yet he can see Katsuki trying to squeeze himself into the music, wearing it like an ill-fitted costume that gets in his way.

When the first jump comes closer, Yuri holds his breath despite knowing what will happen. True enough, a moment later Katsuki slides over the ice before getting up. The move is followed by a step sequence and a spin. Despite the disaster of a performance, Yuri is hit again by how much the older skater’s spins and step sequences pull him in, make him focus on the screen so he doesn’t miss a single movement.

When the music comes to an end, Yuri blinks and looks at the screen, mouse pointer hovering over the replay button, heart feeling strangely tight. His eyes are drawn to the list of video recommendations. It’s a mix of other performances from the Final, including Viktor’s stupid cheesy Free Skate, and other related programs. Without thinking, Yuri scrolls down until he finds a video of one of Katsuki’s qualification skates from Internationaux de France and clicks it.

Yuri isn’t sure what he expects but he is sure that not all of Katsuki’s performances that year could have been like the one in Sochi. There had to be a reason that he made it to the Final in the first place. The video starts with Katsuki skating a few circles on the ice before going into his starting position. Unlike in Sochi, Yuri almost thinks he can see a small smile on Katsuki’s face.

It’s the same ill-fitting music filling the room but instead of forcing himself into it, it feels like Katsuki is shaping it now, making the rhythm fit his movements instead of just following it. Ever since Sochi, Yuri had wanted to see Katsuki skate without mistakes and while he still two-foots his quad Salchow, the whole program feels so different from the one that Yuri knows. Despite the lower difficulty to Viktor’s program, Katsuki’s program feels much more alive to Yuri.

This time, Yuri misses the end of the music completely, eyes still glued on the skater that is finishing his movements while the last notes are fading out. At some point during the performance, Yuri had stopped hearing the music altogether and instead found himself captivated by the silent sound that Katsuki’s movements seemed to make on their own. Why had his skate in Sochi been so screwed up? Yuri doesn’t understand it. If Katsuki had skated like he did during qualification, he might have even made the podium, pushing off stupid JJ and the poses he makes all the time.

The player automatically starts a new video of Katsuki, his Sochi Short Program. Yuri barely remembers it, memory dulled by the Free Skate performance and Yuri’s meeting with Katsuki in the bathroom afterwards. The music is softer on this one, almost gentle in comparison to his Free Skate. It wraps itself around Katsuki as he starts to move and it feels as if it guides him along, the notes intertwining with Katsuki’s movements. It’s the third video Yuri is watching of Katsuki and yet he can’t really grasp what kind of skater the Japanese man is. Yuri frowns, watching Katsuki’s soft movements on the screen, music caressing his body as he switches between elements effortlessly. It reminds Yuri of the way Katsuki had danced during the banquet, as if he had nothing on his mind but the dance itself, as if the world around him didn’t exist.

There is something in the way Katsuki moves that makes Yuri open another video as soon as this one ends, something that Yuri is trying to reach for yet himself. It’s clear that Katsuki has had extensive ballet training, Yuri would recognize the movements anywhere, would always get pulled to the grace they carry. But with Katsuki, it feels like they run deeper than that. Katsuki doesn’t just look graceful through the movements, it’s more like they feel that way because he is the one executing them.

The image of Katsuki sobbing in the bathroom flashes in Yuri’s mind and he clenches his fists, letting crumbs sprinkle on his bed. He hadn’t really cared that Katsuki had cried in the bathroom, everyone would be upset after that performance. What had pissed Yuri off was that Katsuki had been pitying himself. Yuri still doesn’t know who Katsuki had been talking to on the phone but he knew the kind of voice Katsuki had made - like a hurt animal licking its own wounds. Yuri holds on to the bedsheet, teeth grinding against each other - Katsuki had no fucking right to cry like that when this is how he usually moves.

Yuri is almost sure that he won’t see Katsuki next season again anyway, so why does he even bother with looking at his videos? The laptop in front of him feels so heavy suddenly,  Katsuki’s video still filling the screen with a short program from when Katsuki was only a year older than Yuri is now. His jumps suck then already, it’s as if he is missing a centre to keep him steady - it’s disgusting. Yuri thinks of Yakov scolding him for attempting a quad the previous year at the same time as the Katsuki on the screen falls on a triple Toe Loop. Pathetic. Pathetic.  _ Pathetic _ .  Yuri is already better than that, is already prepared to join Seniors in a few months.

And yet, he can’t get himself to push the laptop away or stop the video. Yuri’s eyes keep following Katsuki on the screen - spinning, gliding, jumping,  _ falling _ . Did Katsuki sit in the bathroom after that performance to cry too? Did he call someone to lament how bad he is? Yuri can almost see it, sees a sixteen years old Katsuki crying on the phone. How did he end up sharing a name with someone like that? Someone that gives up just because of a bad day? Yuri would scream and make sure everyone knows he is better than that, show everyone that Yuri Plisetsky never gives up.

Yuri should just ignore Katsuki like he ignores Michele Crispino and Cao Bin. He should forget about someone that cries in the bathroom, gets drunk and dances fucking Viktor of all people. An image of Katsuki during the banquet flashes in front of Yuri’s eyes, Katsuki grinding against Viktor with his stupid tie around his stupid head, and he doubles over, cough shaking his body. The laptop shuts as it falls on the floor, going into sleep mode while Yuri tries to breathe between the coughs and the burning in his chest.

When the itching and burning finally stop, Yuri lets himself fall on the bed, wheezing from the exertion. It’s just a cough he tells himself, nothing that won’t go away after a few days of rest. Yuri pulls himself up, cursing to himself when he has to actually leave the bed to reach his water bottle. As soon as he is standing, Potya claims his spot and curls up against the blanket that is still warm from Yuri’s body heat. If he’d have any energy left, Yuri would tell his cat to move the fuck away so he can lie down again, fully aware that the feline will curl up against him the moment he is comfortable. But right now, Yuri doesn’t even consider speaking, worrying that he will just end up coughing again. So all he does is look at Potya, wondering where his pet had picked up a white flower petal.

**********************

The one thing that annoys Yuri more than being in Viktor’s immediate vicinity in general is when Viktor is happy or in any other way excited at the same time. Things had started off good that week after Yuri was finally allowed to return to training. He hasn’t had any more weird coughs and Yakov didn’t seem to have any intention to extend his sick leave. Best of all, Viktor had been on one of his rare days off.

“Coach Yakov lost it with him on the weekend,” Mila had explained without Yuri even asking. “He’s usually not bothering much when it’s Viktor but I swear not even you have made him that mad before, Yura!”

Yuri had tried to get more information then but Yakov had barked some orders and Yuri preferred to not try his luck and get him as angry as Viktor had. Yakov still insisted that Yuri took it easy that day but the burn in his muscles in the evening felt good and Yuri knew he would be able to get some proper training done the next day.

That is until fucking Viktor enters the rink on Tuesday, looking way too pleased with himself in Yuri’s opinion. Yuri isn’t even sure what Viktor could be so happy about. From what Mila said, Yakov had literally kicked him out of the rink and told him not to come back before he is done sulking. Something about Viktor not getting a call from someone.

Just thinking about it makes a grin spread on Yuri’s face. Serves Viktor right that someone is standing him up. Yuri is sure that Viktor is way too used to getting everything his way, so maybe this will teach him some humility; not everyone comes to kiss the feet of the great Viktor Nikiforov, Russia’s Living Legend. Yuri makes a mental note to find out who exactly it is so he can send them a thank you note.

“Yura! Get over here!”

Yakov’s bark fills the whole rink, echoing off the large windows. Yuri stops and looks over, letting out an exasperated sigh when he sees Viktor standing right next to their coach. Can’t he ever catch a break from his annoying face? Preferably a very long one right after he gives Yuri the promised program.

“Did you see him Yakov? It was perfect! It was even better than getting a call!”

Viktor’s voice and the groan that follows from Yakov are so loud that Yuri can already hear them when he still has half the rink to cross. Yuri isn’t entirely sure what they are talking about but he can almost see Yakov’s fair falling from below his hat.

“Vitya, shut up about the boy copying your old program for one second and start thinking about your new ones. Ever since the World Championship, you have done nothing but sulk around.”

Yuri stops a bit away, curiosity getting the better of him. He might even catch some gossip to share with Mila since she won’t be in for skating practice until later that day. He watches Viktor’s face pull into a pout and feels like wiping it right off his face. Viktor really thinks he can get everything by pulling a pathetic face.

“But he should have been at Worlds! You should have seen the way he moved at the ba-”

“No, I really don’t want to see that again.” Yakov sighed, cutting off Viktor’s sentence before looking at Yuri. “What are you waiting for? An invitation? Get your ass here!”

Yuri starts moving immediately, way too familiar with Yakov’s tone of voice to ignore him this time. He stops right in front of them and frowns, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“What is it? I was just about to work on my jumps and-”

“You should be working on the program I gave you! Or do you think being in the Senior division will be as easy as winning against a bunch of children?” Yakov snapped, pointing a Georgi. “Why can’t any of you listen to me like he does? His program might be ridiculous but at least he is working on it!”

“But Viktor pro-” Yuri started, glaring at the older skater.

“Viktor has enough to do already!” Yakov growls. “You both have your work cut out for you so I don’t want to hear any excuses anymore. Enough!”

Yakov yells the last word so loud that the sound takes several seconds to stop ringing in Yuri’s ears. He is about to remind Yakov of Viktor’s promise for a program once more but doesn’t even get as far as opening his mouth.

“I’ve decided to take a break for this season,” Viktor says way to calmly for Yuri’s taste. Then it dawns him that instead of skating himself, Viktor probably wants to devote his time to give Yuri the program he deserves. It makes sense but Yuri hates it anyway. He wants to beat Viktor with his own program, make sure the other skater recognizes how good Yuri really is.

“Vitya!” Yuri flinches at the touch of hysteria in Yakov’s voice. If Viktor is trying to get thrown out again, he sure as hell is on the right way. “Don’t even joke about that! You’re 27, it’s too late for breaks!”

Yuri glances at Viktor from the corner of his eyes, barely managing to suppress a gasp when he sees Viktor smiling. Yuri had always known that Viktor is stupid but he had never thought him insane, not really. Maybe he really is just done for, Yuri wonders while watching Yakov’s face change colour. He feels a bit sorry for Yakov but actually seeing Viktor be thrown out would definitely make this day a lot better than it currently is. So why not go along with Viktor just a little.

“Why not let him take a break,” Yuri says smugly. “His old bones could seriously do with some rest. And he’ll have his hands full anyway.”

If Yakov has been red before, Yuri is sure that his head is about to explode now. He automatically slides back a little, suddenly worried that he would be the one to get thrown out. Again.

“Don’t try to deal with adult things, Yura! Vitya, you will not take a break!” Yuri can’t remember ever seeing the veins on Yakov’s forehead pop out that much before. Any protest Yuri might still have is quickly forgotten and Yuri only nods, horrified by Viktor still looking completely unphased. It’s not like Yuri is worried about Viktor, he just doesn’t feel like losing his chance to push him off the top of the podium. Something that he can hardly do if Yakov murders Viktor because he is being an idiot.

The sudden silence between them feels heavy to Yuri; he doesn’t even have to strain his ears to hear the hands of the large wall clock on the other end of the rink move. Yuri hears Yakov take a deep breath, then another and he knows that Viktor won’t die. He can’t help feeling just a little upset about it despite his ambitions. When Yakov speaks again, he sounds tired, voice hoarse from all the shouting.

“Both of should rethink your priorities. This could well be your last season Vitya, don’t forget that.” Yakov turns to Yuri and frowns, shaking his head. “And you are taking your senior debut too lightly, Yura. You don’t have much time before your growth spurt, use it instead of fooling around.”

Yakov’s words leave an unpleasant aftertaste in the back of Yuri’s throat and he nods, turning around and skating back to his previous position at the other end of the rink. While he can’t hear them anymore, Yuri can see that Viktor and Yakov are still arguing. At some point, Viktor pulls out his phone and shoves it at Yakov after wildly tapping around on his screen. Yakov pushes the phone away, saying something before walking away. Viktor looks after Yakov for a moment before turning around and leaving the rink way faster than he had entered.

Yuri grins, getting ready to go through the program he has no intention of using. Seeing Viktor get kicked out definitely improved his day. He could even forgive him for ruining it in the first place.

**********************

“This is a joke, right?”

Yuri looks at the phone in his hand, the device shaking as Yuri holds on to it for dear life. He reads the headline again, slowly this time, but the content doesn’t change even when he reads it a third time.

**[Living Legend Viktor Nikiforov moves to Japan to train competitor Yuuri Katsuki for the upcoming season.]**

“Viktor went to Japan to train Katsuki?! Why did he…did he  _ forget  _ his promise?!”

Of course Viktor forgot his promise, Yuri already knew as much when April started and Viktor still hadn’t given him anything and instead was half-heartedly combining elements for his own new program. The betrayal, the proof that Viktor didn’t even deem it necessary to remember his promise to Yuri, hurts more than Yuri has anticipated. It makes bile rise in the back of Yuri’s throat, the acidic liquid burning even though Yuri hasn’t coughed in days now.

And why  _ Katsuki _ ? Why now? Yuri knows that the Japanese skater has ruined his own nationals even worse than the Sochi Free Skate, resulting in him being left out of the World Championship. Yuri doesn’t think that they have even been in contact after what happened at the banquet and Viktor hasn’t even mentioned Katsuki since then.

Yuri scrolls down the article, skimming the paragraphs for any reasons that Viktor could possibly have to abandon everything and run off to Japan. He stops at the bottom of the page, the familiar video of Katsuki skating Viktor’s Free Skate program glaring at him. Yuri hadn’t paid much attention to it when it went viral, fast-forwarding it. Just the thought of Katsuki skating one of Viktor’s programs threatened to give him nausea.

Yuri pugs his phone into the pocket of his training jacket and runs to the rink, calling for Yakov. Was this what yesterday had been all about, Viktor going to Japan? Katsuki probably doesn’t even want him there anyway, who would possibly want Viktor around of all the people? Katsuki will send him right back to Russia when he finds out what an annoying personality Viktor has; there is no way that Katsuki would want to keep him in Japan. Not while he is sober anyway.

Yakov’s voice echoes through the rink as he screams at the reporters inquiring about Viktor. He must have left to pack the previous day, Viktor is impulsive like that after all. Yuri feels a familiar scratching in his throat when he thinks about the fact that Viktor probably thinks Katsuki was calling for him. Seriously, what time does Viktor think they live in, Katsuki wouldn’t make a cheesy video to make Viktor come to Japan to get him. Right?

Yuri takes a deep breath, hands clenching inside his pockets. There is only one thing he can do, he needs to go to Japan too and bring Viktor back. Viktor promised him to make a program for Yuri and Yuri will make damn sure that he keeps that promise. Even if it means finding a way to get to Japan on his own.

And it isn’t just to get Viktor back, he is also saving Katsuki from his embarrassment of a rinkmate. Katsuki might dance with Viktor when he is drunk but there is no way in hell that he wants Viktor around on a permanent basis. No one can possibly want that. So really, Yuri is just doing everyone a favour by bringing Viktor back to Russia. That must be why is heart is suddenly racing so much. It has absolutely nothing to do with Katsuki or Viktor. He is about to go on an adventure, of course Yuri would be excited.

But first Yuri will have to find out where in Japan Katsuki is hiding. He doesn’t have the same luxury as Viktor to just fly off without a plan. He’ll need to find someone to buy tickets for him and he’ll have to get his passport from Yakov’s office somehow. Yuri hasn’t minded before but now the fact that Yakov insists on holding on to it for Yuri makes Yuri want to punch the wall. Viktor acts more like a child than Yuri does and yet no one keeps his passport locked up. After him running off like that, Yuri has the feeling that this might change though.

**********************

It only takes a few days for Viktor to post the first picture that actually gives away where he currently is. He has been spamming his Instagram for days but all the pictures were annoyingly unhelpful to Yuri. How was he supposed to find out where the fuck in Japan Viktor is from a picture of his dumb dog playing in the ocean? Does Viktor even consider that people might want to know where he is when posting pictures? Japan is an Island, there is fucking ocean everywhere.

Yuri lets himself fall on the bed, looking at the picture on his phone. Only Viktor would use a ridiculous hashtag like #ninja just because he is in front of a castle in Japan. Isn’t he supposed to be training Katsuki instead of sightseeing? But at least Yuri knows where he has to go now, a seaside town called Hasetsu. A quick google search tells him that the town is somewhere in the west of Japan, near Fukuoka. Now all Yuri has to do is find someone to get the plane ticket for him.

Yuri had briefly considered asking Yakov since bringing Viktor back would be in his interest too. One look at Yakov during training though made him scrap that idea immediately. There is simply no way that Yakov would let Yuri go to Japan on his own. Georgi and Mila aren’t exactly an option either; they would let it slip before Yuri could even set foot on the plane. No, it can’t be anyone that is in the training complex with him.

The idea how exactly he can circumvent that problem comes to Yuri suddenly, making him smile. He really should have thought about it earlier. Viktor was already in Japan and it wouldn’t be unthinkable for him to follow for training purposes now, would it? A few months ago, Yuri had learned how to fake Viktor’s signature, figuring that it would be fun to flood his house with Pizza orders without him knowing. Now, however, that skill would come in handy to sign the guardian consent form. With them skating at the same rink and Viktor’s ridiculous - and completely overdone - fame, no one would even question the form. Now the only problem is to get his passport from Yakov’s office.

Fortunately, an opportunity to get said passport appears right the next day. Since Viktor is gone, Yuri has claimed his morning ice time as if it is the most natural thing to happen. With Georgi being just as old as Viktor and close to the end of his career, it’s Yuri who carries the weight of Viktor’s succession. Not that Yuri minds, he is more than ready for it, he has been ready for a long time.

So when Mila and Georgi arrive at the rink later that day, Yuri is already skating lazy circles to cool down before stretching. Yakov had seemed rather pensive that morning, only barking a few comments at Yuri occasionally instead of his usual stream of commands. When Yakov spots Georgi, he huffs grumpily and goes straight to the older skater, face frozen in grim determination.

“Get ready, you’re up next,” Yakov grumbles loud enough for Yuri to hear it over the sound of his blades. He skates a bit closer anyway, not wanting to miss whatever it is that Yakov has in mind. Georgi might not be much in terms of competition, but there is a reason that Yakov is as legendary a coach as Viktor is a skater.

“Wasn’t Mila supposed to go first?” Georgi asks while hurrying to put his phone away. Yuri is sure that he has been browsing through the pictures of his ex-girlfriend again, it’s everything Georgi ever does when he isn’t skating. And even when he is skating, his whole routines are dedicated to her despite the fact she dumped him. Yuri wonders if Viktor will do the same when Katsuki throws him out after getting sick of Viktor. With a grin, he imagines Viktor scrolling through the pictures on his phone over and over again, complaining if Katsuki even knows who he is giving up on in that annoying whiny voice of his.

“You’re up next, change of plans! If Viktor thinks he can play at being coach, we’ll show him how wrong he is!” Yakov says, face hard. Yuri wonders if Yakov will take Viktor back when he returns with him. It’s not like he cares about it, he just doesn’t want to miss his chance to see Viktor look up to him.

It takes Yuri a moment to notice that Yakov isn’t going to his office like he usually would after morning practice. Instead, he sits down on one of the benches, tapping his foot impatiently while waiting for Georgi to emerge from the locker room. Yuri knows that Yakov will be busy when he starts the training, his eyes never leave the ice when he is watching someone. It can be quite intimidating to be watched by Yakov, his eyes following your every move. But it also means that he won’t pay attention to anything Yuri does before he goes to dance practice.

Yuri skates another circle before leaving the ice right when Georgi comes out of the locker room. They pass each other on Yuri’s way to the stretching mats and Yuri can see the uneasiness vibrating from Georgi’s body, sees it in his eyes when he glances at Yuri. Yuri scoffs at him and pushes his hands into his training jacket, hiding the shaking of his hands at the thought of what he has planned. Yakov will be busy for at least an hour but just the thought of delaying his plan makes Yuri feel a kind of uneasiness he isn’t used to.

The stretching feels like it’s taking forever. If he finishes too early, Yakov will notice it, he always does, and Yuri isn’t interested in getting a lecture about a proper cool-down again. So he takes the whole thirty minutes Yakov has assigned him to do while keeping an eye on the rink to make sure that Yakov isn’t anywhere near finishing. When Yuri is done, he makes his way to the locker room before slipping in the passage next to it when he is sure no one is watching him.

Yakov’s office isn’t far but Yuri turns around every few steps to make sure that the drumming in his ears is only his heartbeat and not the steps of someone following him. When Yuri finally reaches the door, he notices that the thought of it being locked never occurred to him before. His hand shakes when he reaches out and Yuri can’t help a sigh of relief at the door opening quietly when he presses the handle down, grateful that Yakov is so fucking careless.

The office itself is just as messy as Yuri remembers it from his last visit only a few days ago. While the season hasn’t started yet, Yuri can see already prepared paperwork lying on the table, ready to be sent off. Yuri slowly goes behind the table, pushing the large, black office chair away while he opens one of the drawers, lifting papers to see if his passport is hiding underneath. He knows Yakov keeps them on the right side of his table somewhere, only three more drawers to go through.

When the second and third drawer also don’t have anything useful in them, Yuri glares at the last one for a moment, willing his passport to be in it. He extends a shaking hand and pulls the drawer open, finding it to be much neater than the other three. His passport lies right on the top of a pile of papers. He pulls it out and opens it, making sure that it really is his. When he is sure, his eyes wander to the papers and he pulls one of them out, grinning when he sees that it is one of many guardian consent forms. Yuri folds it in four and pushes it in his passport before slowly closing the drawer again and pushing the chair back in place.

He quietly leaves the office, holding on to the items in his jacket nervously. Yuri hasn’t expected it to be this easy. When he reaches the rink again, Yakov is still too busy to shout at Georgi to even notice him. It’s strange, Yuri had been so scared to be discovered but the complete lack of any interference almost makes it feel like has just dreamed all of it.

Closing his hand even tighter around the passport, Yuri quickly steps into the passage to the locker rooms, already making plans on how to get the tickets for the flight. In a few days, Yuri will be on his way to Japan to get Viktor back. Maybe he’ll also be able to catch a glimpse of Katsuki skating to see if he has managed to get over Sochi. Yuri slowly reaches up to his throat and massages it softly to sooth the by now familiar scratching in it while hoping that Katsuki hasn’t given up just yet.

\----

To be continued....


	2. Summer's Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer than anticipated but I hope you still enjoy poor Yuri having even more feels for our amazing Katsudon!
> 
> **Not beta-ed**
> 
> Enjoy!

Japan is warmer than Yuri has anticipated. While St. Petersburg also starts warming up in April, the air in Fukuoka is already full of sweet smells and warm breezes. Yuri doesn’t get cold very fast, something he is incredibly grateful for right now since it means he isn’t dressed in a too thick layer of clothes. From the corner of his eyes, Yuri sees two teenagers point at him and he hurries to pull up his black face mask, hoping that no one has recognized him. Everything has worked according to plan so far and Yuri is planning to keep it that way.

Getting to Japan has been easier than Yuri had anticipated. Since he usually travels with Viktor, the airline in Russia hadn’t even doubted Viktor’s fake signature when Yuri checked in. They actually seemed excited to take care of him, probably hoping that Viktor will pick their airline if Yuri speaks well of them. Idiots.

Grabbing his suitcase, Yuri makes his way to the taxi stands while trying to shake the stiffness out of his legs. Why is Katsuki living in some remote corner of Japan rather than in Tokyo anyway? Being in Tokyo would save Yuri almost four hours of travel time. Not like anything about this trip has been convenient; leave it to Viktor to make things as difficult as possible for Yuri.

The trip from Fukuoka Airport to the train station where Yuri is supposed to take the train to Hasetsu feels much longer than it should and Yuri is sure that the taxi driver keeps looking at him through the rear mirror. He pushes his mask up a bit more and pulls his hood more to the front, stuffing as much of his hair under it as possible. When he finally arrives at the train station, he pushes a bundle of bills into the driver’s hands and leaves the car as fast as possible. Everything about Japan is just way too confusing for Yuri to actually bother with it. Instead, Yuri’s thoughts are already drifting to his destination.

The closer he gets to Hasetsu, the more nervous Yuri can feel himself getting; as if he is about to perform a routine he has never tried before. He isn’t even completely sure how he is supposed to find Viktor and Katsuki. While Hasetsu isn’t as big as St. Petersburg, Yuri doesn’t know where he should start looking for them. The only hint he has is the stupid ninja picture that Viktor had posted on his Instagram. Yuri straightens his back, pushing the thoughts away. He’ll arrive in Hasetsu around noon, leaving him with enough time to find out where Viktor is hiding. The old man must have caused a commotion when he arrived, so Yuri is sure someone can tell him where to find Viktor. If Katsuki hasn’t thrown him out already that is.

What will Katsuki think when Yuri arrives unannounced? Even though Yuri tries not to think about it, he wonders what the other skater will say. Would Katsuki even remember him? Yuri pulls a face at that thought; of course, Katsuki will remember him, you don’t forget the guy that finds you crying in the bathroom and then screams at you. At the banquet, it didn’t look like Katsuki hated him but he was also so wasted that Yuri wonders if he even remembers the night at all.

It’s not like it matters, though, Yuri’s whole purpose in Japan is to get Viktor’s ass back to Russia so he can make that program for Yuri. It’s just a coincidence that Katsuki happens to be Viktor’s latest whim. Who even cares if he is there, training one of the step sequences that Yuri wishes he could execute too. Who cares if all Katsuki did at the banquet is dance with Viktor. Or that he asked Viktor to be his coach and then never contacted him again. Who cares that he didn’t even look at Yuri anymore even though Yuri wanted to scream at him more. It’s not like he is in Japan for Katsuki.

The monotonous voice announcing the upcoming arrival in Hasetsu pulls Yuri out of his thoughts. Blinking at the passing landscape, Yuri wonders when almost two hours have passed since the train left Fukuoka - he hadn’t even noticed the train getting considerably emptier. Sighing, Yuri waits for the train to stop before he grabs his suitcase from the overhead compartment and leaves the train, keeping his head low when curious eyes follow his movements. Considering that Hasetsu is in a rather remote corner, Yuri is surprised to find the station well taken care of and with newly installed escalators. Maybe people here aren’t as behind as Yuri has seen in some of the movies showing the Japanese countryside.

Yuri lifts his head enough to look around and almost trips when the escalator reaches the bottom, eyes glued to the wall opposite him. Yuri has expected Katsuki to be famous in his hometown, he really has. Despite last season’s disaster, Yuri knows now that Katsuki is the highest-ranking skater in Japan right now - not even the bombed nationals changed that. Being greeted by a wall of pictures and posters of Katsuki in the train station is surprising nonetheless. Katsuki looked almost surreal in the picture - dressed in black clothes and surrounded by trees that Yuri recognizes as cherry trees.

Yuri steps closer, squinting at one of the images protected by a glass frame. The whole setup is incredibly cheesy, with Katsuki seemingly floating among the trees and extending his hand as if reaching for something. Yuri has seen a number of bad promotional pictures for Viktor but the one for Katsuki just feels so wrong to him, starting with the obviously photoshopped smile on Katsuki’s face. Not like Yuri has done any extensive research on Katsuki; all he did was check some interviews and articles like he would for any other skater that isn’t Viktor. He knows Katsuki’s real smile and it definitely doesn’t look like that.

Irritated, Yuri lets go of his suitcase and snatches one of the smaller, unprotected, pictures hanging over the large posters, stuffing it in the pocket of his jacket. If Katsuki hasn’t seen the abomination yet, it’s almost Yuri’s responsibility to make him aware of it, right? Viktor might not care about ugly pictures of him adorning bus stops and ads but Yuri doubts that Katsuki will be happy with being displayed like this. He gives the pictures one last, disgruntled look and turns towards the exit.

**********

Actually finding Katsuki and Viktor turns out to be more difficult than Yuri has expected. While just walking aimlessly through Hasetsu has led to Yuri getting one of the most amazing sweaters ever, it hasn’t actually gotten him any closer to his goal. Instead, Yuri now has to deal with Yakov knowing where he is; not like Yakov could do anything about it except screaming at Yuri. It’s all Viktor’s fault anyway. If the geezer hadn’t taken off without making good on his promise to Yuri, Yuri wouldn’t need to get him back now.

Forgetting his promises is just like Viktor, though. Yuri can’t even count the times Viktor had forgotten what he said. He usually tries to play it off as a joke when he is reminded but it always feels like there is something else behind it to Yuri. It’s almost as if Viktor doesn’t actually care about any of it, as if nothing really matters and that’s why he doesn’t see a need to remember it. Thinking about it like that feels unexpectedly painful though, knowing that Viktor doesn’t really care about any of it - not his medals, his fame, even his rink mates. It doesn’t really make sense to Yuri - Viktor should be happy with the world in his hands; and yet he acts as if all the things Yuri wants so much are worth nothing.

Yuri stops, looking around himself for the first time in a while. He must have left the town centre at some point and is now standing on a bridge with the sky slowly changing colours. Everything always seems so easy when Viktor does it, be it skating or going to a strange country on a whim. And yet, just like skating had turned out to be more than just moving around on the ice easily, the trip has also become difficult in ways that Yuri hasn’t considered before. How is he supposed to find Viktor or even Katsuki when he has no idea where to look? Yuri clenches his fists, letting his suitcase drop on the floor noisily as he steps towards the bridge guards, taking a deep breath.

“Stop hiding from me Viktor fucking Nikiforov!”

The words burn as they leave his throat but it also lifts a weight from his chest that he hadn’t noticed before. Viktor always does this to Yuri, makes him feel miserable even if he isn’t physically around. Yuri hates to know that he needs him, that the only way for him to be better than Viktor is to rely on his guidance. Yuri isn’t stupid, he knows that he is missing the twelve years of experience that are separating them from each other, years that he can never fully catch up. So all Yuri can do is use the advantage he has now - a younger body, the flexibility of a teenager that Viktor has lost so many years ago. Yuri knows Viktor is good but Yuri also knows that he can be better than Viktor and that’s what keeps him going, that’s why he is here.

“Are you a fan of Viktor?”

Yuri almost doesn’t understand what the old man next to him is saying, English broken at best. Has he been here the whole time? Yuri doesn’t remember and he doesn’t really care. The man only smiles at him and points into the direction Yuri has been walking already before starting to talk again.

“There is an ice rink under the castle, you should start looking there.”

It takes Yuri a moment to put the sentence together in his head but then he nods and thanks the man before grabbing his suitcase again and marching off. The castle looks similar to the one Yuri remembers from Viktor’s Instagram picture, towering over what feels like the whole town. Yuri glares at the way sign as if the letter will change to something readable if he just looks at them long enough.

“Do you think they will let us see Viktor?” says a voice while passing Yuri. Yuri blinks, not sure if he really heard someone speak English or if he is just too starved to actually understand what people are saying in this godforsaken town. The two girls are walking in the direction of one of the signs and given the topic of their conversation, Yuri decides to follow them.

“He always gives signatures after training, we can see him then!” says one of the girls while giggling. “Do you think he looks just as pretty as he does on the posters?”

Yuri wants to vomit. The girls aren’t much older than he is, maybe sixteen or seventeen, how can they possibly like an old man like Viktor? Yuri falls a bit further behind until he can’t make out what the second idiot answers to her idiot friend’s question. The last thing he wants is to listen to people gushing over Viktor; Yuri has the feeling he will see enough of that with Katsuki already. Stupid Katsuki and his stupid crush on Viktor.

Yuri hears the commotion in front of the rink before he can even climb the stairs to the entrance. He tries to make out some words as he goes up, catching a mix of English, Japanese and other languages that he isn’t fully confident he can identify. It doesn’t really matter, they all rushed here to talk to Viktor anyway, perfect Viktor and his perfect smile that Yuri will wipe off his face soon.

Throwing a last disgusted look at the crowd, Yuri walks past them, certain that whoever is keeping people out will know who he is. And if they don’t, Yuri will make fucking sure they do. True enough, someone shouts after him as he approaches the door; the only word Yuri understands is something akin to stop. He turns around, glaring at what turns out to be three girls no older than five or six, each of them wearing identical clothes apart from the colour. Despite Yuri’s glare, the girls start pointing at him and calling his name over and over again.

“Viktor is in there, isn’t he?” Yuri grumbles. Children have never been his strong point, they are just too damn annoying.

“Come in, come in!” the girls chime in unison, pointing towards the door. Yuri is about to turn around when he catches a person running past them from the corner of his eyes, crashing against the entrance door.

Katsuki Yuuri. Of course, Yuri would run into Katsuki before he even has the chance to see Viktor.  Katsuki is heaving behind him, exchanging something with the triplets in Japanese. Has Katsuki always sounded like this? Yuri remembers his voice a bit rougher than what he is listening to now. Maybe it’s just the change of language, Japanese flowing from Katsuki’s lips like English never will. Yuri can feel himself shaking, can feel the metal bar of his suitcase’s handle clatter from the involuntary movement. Something in Yuri’s chest is hurting, bringing back that feeling of the cough Yuri thought he had finally gotten rid of. Katsuki is right behind him and yet he isn’t paying any attention to Yuri. Again.

Yuri has no idea what he is talking about with the triplets but he understands Viktor’s name when Katsuki says it in that annoyingly happy voice. Surprise turns into rage and Yuri spins around, sending Katsuki flying against the counter with a single, well-aimed kick to the back. The impact sounds painful and Yuri has to hold back to not flinch. Instead, he walks over and pushes his shoe against Katsuki’s forehead, grim smile on his face.

“It’s all your fault, fucking apologize!” Yuri growls, rubbing the sole of his foot against Katsuki. How can he just lie on the floor and actually apologize when it’s clear from his face that he has no idea what Yuri is even talking about. Just like he acted in Sochi. Yuri grinds his teeth against each other, suppressing the urge to spit into Katsuki’s face. Is this really the same person who’s videos Yuri has spent hours watching? How can he be so different when he isn’t skating? The two images just don’t match in Yuri’s head, making him slightly dizzy.

“You pig! Fatso! Pig!” Yuri presses out, ignoring the fact that Katsuki is in near perfect shape. He keeps repeating the insults until Katsuki has the audacity to ask what Yuri is doing here and why he is so angry. Of course, he would feign innocence considering exactly how he got Viktor to pack up and go to Japan. Good, Yuri thinks with a sigh, at least he knows how fucking embarrassing his behaviour is.

After reveling in Katsuki asking him to take his foot away for a bit longer, Yuri steps aside, leaning against the counter leisurely while Katsuki pulls himself off the floor. Even that move lacks any of the grace he has when falling on the ice; it’s as if Katsuki is a completely different person.

“Viktor promised me first to choreograph a program for me, so you better not get any stupid ideas,” Yuri says, proud that he sounds much more relaxed than he actually feels. For some reason, being near Katsuki makes his skin feel too tight and his chest hurt. He just hopes Katsuki’s ridiculousness is not infectious.

“We haven’t really spoken about programs or anything….” Katsuki says hesitantly, rubbing his hand against the spot where Yuri shoe had been not long ago. An image of Katsuki and Viktor doing anything but training flashes through Yuri’s mind and he clenches his fist, body tensing as he steps forward.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yuri snaps, leaning his upper body towards Katsuki. “You make him take a year off to do what, sit on the beach? Isn’t getting Viktor as coach enough for you already?”

The images in Yuri’s head are spinning. Katsuki and Viktor at the beach, playing catch. Katsuki and Viktor at the ice rink chasing each other. Katsuki and Viktor sightseeing, Katsuki and Viktor in a restaurant, Katsuki and Viktor playing footsie under the table. Katsuki and Viktor kissing. Katsuki and Viktor. Fucking Katsuki and fucking Viktor.

Yuri feels something sour in the back of his throat at the same time as he starts coughing, supporting himself on the counter. Yuri tries to breathe but instead chokes on something, sending him right into the next coughing fit. It almost feels like something is taking over his lungs, spreading inside him. From the corner of his eyes, Yuri sees Katsuki moving towards him, reaching out. Yuri almost falls but he avoids being touched by Katsuki, glaring at him through half-opened eyes.

“Get lost pig, I don’t need help from someone like you.” Yuri hisses between coughs. “All you’re good for is crying in a toilet stall! You’ll never make it to the Final again, not even with Viktor as your coach!”

Yuri almost shouts the last words, using the pain in his chest to fuel his anger. How did he ever think Katsuki was different from all the other useless trash that keeps trying and failing to throw Viktor off his throne. How did he ever let himself believe that there is something special in Katsuki, something that even Viktor is lacking? Heaving, Yuri clings to his newly-acquired tiger shirt, bunching the fabric in his fingers without care. What did he even come here for? Katsuki and Viktor can both rot in hell.

To top it off, Yuri is sure he sees Katsuki’s expression looking hurt before twisting into a smug smile, leaving Yuri with a strange feeling in his stomach. Yuri wants to think that it serves him right for being so attached to Viktor but he can’t really convince even himself of that. Why is Katsuki just so damn irritating?

“I’ll wipe that smug grin out of your face at the Grand Prix,” Yuri says just to push all the confusing feelings aside. Everything is so much easier if he can just get himself to be angry at Katsuki.

“I don’t get the whole picture,” Katsuki says still with that annoyingly smug expression. “Why don’t you ask Viktor yourself?”

With that, Katsuki turns away and goes towards one of the doors, leaving Yuri no choice but to follow him. The building feels so cramped compared to the huge facilities in St. Petersburg, no wonder Katsuki moved to the US to train.

It doesn’t take long for the chill from the rink to fill the corridor. Yuri can smell the familiar scent of frozen water, can hear the scratching of blades on its surface as soon as Katsuki opens the door. It’s familiar and yet so different from the space Yuri is used to, the small rink almost intimate. It makes Yuri a bit uneasy, as if he is intruding, unwanted. Probably because he is, just an unwelcome guest in a place where even the ice rink tells Yuri that there is no space for him. Not like he wants to stay for long anyway. As soon as Viktor agrees to come with him, Yuri is gone too.

Yuri shouldn’t be surprised to see Viktor on the ice. It’s only been a bit more than a week and despite coaching, Viktor would never neglect his own training if he really intends to come back next season. Somehow, Yuri still hadn’t expected to see Viktor go through the same moves he had already been working on in Russia; now that he doesn’t need them anymore it’s just natural for him to give them to Katsuki.

“Those moves are from the short program Viktor has been working on for the coming season…” Yuri says more to himself than anyone else. From the corner of his eyes, he sees Katsuki’s jaw drop and sighs. For someone fucking head over heels for Viktor, Katsuki knows surprisingly little.

“He had already started to put programs together to use, “Yuri explains, eyes following Viktor’s every move.  Viktor’s skating has changed again, carrying something that Yuri hasn’t seen before, something similar to what Yuri feels when he watches Katsuki skate. Maybe it’s because they are meant for Katsuki now; Viktor hardly needs them since he is taking a break. Yet he didn’t consider once to make good on his promise and leave them for Yuri.

“Instead, he flew around the world and is wasting his time with someone like you,” Yuri says through grit teeth, swallowing all the other things burning on his tongue. It doesn’t matter what he says, he knows already Katsuki won’t ever send Viktor away, knows it by the way the man’s eyes light up whenever he watches Viktor, just like they did in Sochi. It’s always Viktor.

Yuri closes his eyes, trying to ignore the painful beating in his chest. Sometimes he wonders if something wrong with him after all. Yuri is only fifteen and yet that strange cough keeps coming back and now his chest is hurting as well. It’s not a constant pain but it seems to have gotten worse ever since he landed in Japan. Maybe the jetlag is just hitting him harder than usual. Yuri doesn’t usually have problems with it but there is a first time for everything.

His last athletic check-up had been fine so it’s not like there is anything to worry about.  Taking a deep breath, Yuri leans against the rink barrier, pulling his voice from his belly to make it project.

“You’re fucking done Nikiforov, just retire already!”

The volume in which Yuri sends the words flying leave a pleasant burn behind, especially when Yuri sees Viktor stop in his tracks and turns around to look at him.

“Yura!” As usual, Viktor’s voice is way too cheerful, the sound bouncing off the walls to assault Yuri from all corners. “I’m surprised Yakov let you come here. Did you miss me that much?”

Yuri wants to kill Viktor, here and now, for everyone to see. He knew already that Viktor had forgotten his promise, knows exactly how Viktor is. It hurts anyway. Somehow, though, it doesn’t hurt as much as the thought of the look on Katsuki’s face when he watches Viktor.

**********

It’s not like Yuri is ashamed of how he looks, quite the opposite. He still has the lithe body of a teenager right now and a part of him wishes his growth spurt would never come. However, sharing a bath with Viktor is definitely not on Yuri’s bucket list. The thought is so abstract it didn’t even make it onto the list of things to avoid.

And yet, Yuri finds himself staying in Katsuki’s home, a hot spring of all things. He looks around the room, wondering if all the rooms are as spacious as Viktor’s. The structure of the place is rather impressive, giving a welcoming feeling to the whole place. If it weren’t for the circumstances he is in, Yuri would have liked to come here on a trip.

“I guess this place will do,” Yuri says, making sure to keep his back to Katsuki and Viktor.

“You’re staying here?!?” It shouldn’t be a surprise that Katsuki sounds anything but happy, and yet the dissatisfied sound in his voice makes Yuri’s stomach feel heavier than it should. Katsuki didn’t have to sound that upset.

“It won’t be a fair match if you keep Viktor to yourself all the time! It’s not like I need him to beat you but I have to make sure you two are actually training!” Yuri snaps, looking over his shoulder just in time to catch the pink dusting on Katsuki’s cheeks before he catches himself again.

“What else would we do than train?”

Yuri isn’t sure if Katsuki is feigning innocence or if he is really that stupid. Huffing in annoyance, Yuri turns around fully, hands on his hips.

“So, where is my room?” he asks, not really eager to follow the train of thoughts that is trying to take over his mind. Katsuki sighs and mutters something about Yuri not caring what he thinks anyway.

“We don’t have anything else free,” Katsuki says while looking around the room. “This was already an empty banquet room that we freed up for Viktor.”

“What’s that door?” Yuri asks, pointing towards a sliding door near the entrance to the room. He noticed it earlier already but hasn’t paid much attention to it until now.

“That’s a storage room….” Katsuki answers, looking pensive. “I guess you could use that if we clean it out. It’s about the same size as my room.”

It’s still better than sharing a room with Viktor in Yuri’s opinion so he pulls the door open and throws his suitcase inside, making his intentions very clear.

“You should try the hot springs Yura, it’s amazing!” Viktor says happily while winking at Katsuki. There is no way Katsuki is dense enough to not know Viktor’s intentions. Frankly, Yuri is surprised, and delighted, that Viktor seems to have been pretty much sitting dry. At least Katsuki isn’t an easy lay, not even for the great Viktor Nikiforov.

“I can’t take a bath with other people!” Yuri snaps, sending death glares in Viktor’s direction. And it isn’t just Viktor, he’d probably have to share it with Katsuki as well. The thought doesn’t give Yuri nausea like thinking of Viktor does but it leaves Yuri uneasy in a way he isn’t entirely sure about.

Trying to keep the thought of sharing the hot springs with either of them out of his head, albeit for different reasons, Yuri stomps into the closet, slamming the door shut behind him. His face feels unusually warm and it takes him a few moments to figure out that the reason for that is that the image of Katsuki in the hot springs refuses to go away. The image also comes with his throat tightening and scratching but Yuri manages to control it by pretending to clear his throat. Yuri can still hear Katsuki talking to Viktor, walls so thin that even the rustle of Viktor moving on his couch can be heard with the door closed.

“I doubt Yakov let him come here, Yura needs to prepare his debut.” Yuri can hear Viktor say in a whisper.

“Well, you did promise him a program for that….”

“God I can’t remember at all.... he should have reminded me.”

“Viktor, he is fifteen! When I was that age, I….” Katsuki suddenly interrupts his sentence, clearing his throat before continuing. “Never mind, he’d expect you to remember.”

A child, that’s all Katsuki sees when he looks at Yuri. The thought makes Yuri clench his fists, face turning red with anger and disappointment. He is so sick of people looking down on him and treating him like a child. It’s not Yuri’s fault that they are older than he is. But some part of him thought that Katsuki would treat him differently. It’s just a feeling, the impression he got from the short interaction they’ve had before.

Yuri’s thoughts wander back to the upcoming competition he’ll have with Katsuki in just a week. The thought of skating to the same music makes Yuri feel strangely warm. It also reminds him of when Katsuki skated Viktor’s stupid Stammi Vicino routine. What if they even get the same routine just with different arrangements of the music. He could skate the same routine as Katsuki, on the same ice.

Yuri tries to hold back the cough as good as he can, knowing full well that Viktor would spill about it to Yakov if he just as much as suspected that Yuri is sick again. Fuck that, he definitely doesn’t have time to sit around now. If Katsuki sees him as a child, then Yuri has to prove him wrong by being better.

“Coughing again, Yura?” Viktor asks through the door, voice closer than it had been when he spoke to Katsuki a few minutes ago.

“Fuck off, this room is disgusting. Doesn’t anyone clean this fucking place!” Yuri snaps back, blowing off some dust from one of the shelves to make a point before remembering that Viktor can’t actually see him.

“You could always stay somewhere else.” Viktor chirps and of course that would be perfect, wouldn’t it? Stupid Viktor could have just as well said that Yuri is in the way. Yuri really doesn’t want to care but he has to admit that the small hissed ‘Viktor!’ he hears coming from Katsuki at the comment soothes the sting a lot. At least Katsuki isn’t trying to throw him out just yet.

Yuri is about to slam the door open and tell Viktor where exactly he can stick his ‘staying somewhere else’ when he notices a few white flower petals spread over the floor that he doesn’t remember seeing there before. The room isn’t exactly big and in the dark, Yuri should have noticed shining white flower petals that look as if they have just been pulled off whatever flower they come from.

He looks around to see if he has tossed something when blowing off the dust but all Yuri can see is an almost empty shelf with a break in the dust layer. There are absolutely no fresh flowers in sight nor is there an open window through which the petals could have come in.

“Hey Pig,” Yuri calls before picking one of the petals up and opening the door.  He shoves the petal at Katsuki, pulling a face at the same time. “You have something growing in your storage somewhere. You really never cleaned this, did you?”

Katsuki fucking frowns at him as if Yuri hadn’t just said the truth. The room is dirty, even for storage room standards, with a dust layer so thick that Yuri had only noticed the shelf colour after he blew a hole into it.  After a moment, Katsuki takes the petal and turns it in his hand, frown deepening as he looks past Yuri into the storage room.

“I’m not sure, I’m not great with flowers but it might be a chrysanthemum petal?” Katsuki says, looking at Viktor as if he knows what on earth the petal could be. “It’s not a cherry blossom for sure.”

Then Viktor takes the petal from Katsuki, letting his fingers rest so long on Katsuki’s hand that Yuri wants to slap them away and tell Viktor how disgusting his stupid flirting is. Does he ever think of anything else than getting into Katsuki’s pants? The thought makes Yuri’s throat itch again, obviously from the bile that Viktor’s behaviour is provoking.

“It could be, it looks pretty close to it. Do you have any in your house, Yuuri?” Viktor asks, only coming up with the question to leer at Katsuki more and use his accent to roll Katsuki’s name. God, Yuri just wants to punch him so badly.

“Not right now. We usually have some in autumn but they’re not even in season yet.” Katsuki says while shaking his head and continuing to stare at the petal. Or pretending to stare at the petal; Yuri has noticed Katsuki’s eyes focusing more on Viktor than the floral item in his hand.

“Whatever, just forget it,” Yuri says and goes past them before he vomits at the doe eyes Katsuki makes at Viktor. What does he even see in the old man, Yuri wonders again. It’s been clear that Katsuki likes Viktor ever since the banquet but Yuri still hasn’t figured why. He is about to snap something else at them when his stomach growls loudly, the vibration of it almost painful.

Yuri hasn’t eaten since around noon and it’s already dark outside now, it’s not really a surprise that he is hungry. But he hates that his stomach announces it as if Yuri is a child unable to control himself. He doesn’t even need to turn around to see the grin on Viktor’s face, happy that Yuri embarrassed himself.

“We should get some food, I’m starving too.” To Yuri’s surprise, it’s Katsuki that’s talking, statement neutral as if Yuri had only asked for food. Yuri is glad he still has his back to them, making it easy to hide the small smile that plays around his lips at the warm feeling that’s washing through him. It feels a bit odd, almost like a tickle as it reaches his toes and fingertips, but Yuri likes it even though he isn’t entirely sure where it comes from.

**********

As bad as his sleeping arrangements may be, the food in Katsuki’s house if fucking delicious. After going downstairs, Katsuki’s mother had given Yuri and Viktor a bowl of what Katsuki called Katsudon. Yuri hadn’t been convinced at first, looking at the glistening egg and the deep-fried meat with suspicion. The fact that he didn’t even have a fork made taking the first bite even more difficult but when Yuri finally manages to manoeuvre a piece into his mouth with the goddamn chopsticks, it feels as if he has just taken a bite out of heaven.

“This is so fucking good!” Yuri almost shouts, trying his best to pick up another piece but fails. Why can’t Japanese people use normal cutlery like everyone else? Instead, they use two wooden sticks that are anything but convenient. Just when Yuri is about to complain about proper eating equipment, Katsuki’s mother places a fork next to him, smiling widely. It’s actually crazy how much Katsuki resembles her – same deep brown eyes, same puffy cheeks, even their smile looks the same.

Yuri takes the fork, nodding his thanks to Katsuki’s mother before starting to devour the food, finally able to enjoy it properly instead of having to be satisfied with sample bites. Glancing to the side, Yuri almost pities Katsuki for his bowl of vegetables. It’s true that he is a bit round but being stuck with broccoli and carrots while someone is eating Katsudon is close to torture in Yuri’s book. Not like Yuri would ever offer him any because he cares; no, if anything it would be out of pity.

Suddenly the sliding door behind Yuri opens and Yuri hears a female talking in Japanese, sounding bored. He doesn’t really care but when he hears his name, or Katsuki’s, Yuri turns around, throwing a glare at whoever dared interrupting his meal and is promptly met with a look that is almost as disgusting as Viktor’s when he leers at Katsuki, only almost.

“His name is also Yuuri!” Katsuki’s mothers says in slow English, sounding way too happy about it. The woman behind Yuri, seemingly Katsuki’s sister going by the looks, pulls a face that Yuri can emphasize with. Really, whoever had the idea to give Katsuki the same name anyway?

“That’s way too confusing!” The woman says and points at Yuri, the grin on her face making Yuri’s stomach twist with the feeling of something bad coming up. “You’ll now be Yurio!”

“WHAT? NO WAY” Sometimes, just sometimes, Yuri wishes he wouldn’t be right about fucking everything. On top of it, no one else seems to agree with his outrage, Viktor practically beaming.

The woman says something else in Japanese, clearly ignoring Yuri’s protests as she uses ‘Yurio’ again. Of course, Yuri already knew people in this house must be crazy for keeping Viktor with them but until now Yuri still had some hope that they at least aren’t insane.

When the woman finally leaves, Katsuki gets up too, sighing as he goes through the door without looking back.

“Good for you, Yurio!” Viktor says cheerfully, almost making Yuri choke on the bite he had just put into his mouth, carelessly feeling safe for a moment. Of course, Viktor would be delighted.

“Shut up! That’s not my fucking name!” Yuri snaps back, barely managing to not throw his useless chopsticks at Viktor. Viktor had always been a pest but lately everything he does just annoys Yuri so much that just seeing him makes Yuri’s heart race with anger. It’s even worse when Katsuki is around, even though Yuri isn’t really sure why. Maybe it’s because neither of them really pays any attention to him since they are too busy pretending there is nothing going on between them. God, is Yuri the only one taking skating seriously here?

“And it’s so easy to keep your names apart now.” Viktor continues without caring for what Yuri said, as usual.

“Because it’s so hard when you haven’t called me Yuri for the past three years,” Yuri mumbles more to himself than to Viktor. Talking to Viktor can be such a waste of time.

For a moment, Viktor is strangely quiet, voice low when he finally does talk again.

“Would you have preferred I didn’t call you Yura?”

Yuri blinks, looking at Viktor with a frown. Viktor had never asked if he could use Yura so why is he asking now when Yuri has never complained about it? Maybe it’s just Yuri’s imagination but Viktor’s voice had been shaking just a little when he asked, as if he is afraid that Yuri will tell him not to. It doesn’t make any sense though since it could hardly matter to him what exactly he calls Yuri, seeing that he always has people running after him anyway.

“Whatever,” Yuri says with a shrug, “I don’t care what you call me as long as it isn’t Yurio!”

Viktor looks at Yuri for a moment longer and then just shrugs, the annoying smile returning to his face. Sometimes Yuri wonders if Viktor knows what it means to feel seriously dejected. Sure, Viktor has had setbacks but Yuri has never really seen him upset, not the way he has seen Katsuki in the bathroom in Sochi.

Yuri lays his head on the table in front of him with an annoyed sigh. Thinking about Viktor does nothing but irritate him, filling his head with ifs and maybes that he has no answer to and he would rather break a leg than ask Viktor for one. If there is no obvious answer, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?

Scoffing, Yuri turns his head to the side, looking at the open sliding door Katsuki and his sister disappeared through earlier. Does it really take that long to clean out a storage room? Sure, there is dust, a lot of dust, but other than that all it needs is some airing and a bed. Yuri knows that Katsuki is slow but he can’t possibly be that slow.

As if on cue, Katsuki’s sister comes into the room with a tray, picking up their dinner leftovers. Yuri closes his eyes, pretending to sleep when he hears Viktor move on the other side of the table. Something tells him that interacting with Viktor any more today won’t do either of them any good.

“Have you seen Yuuri?” Viktor asks, making Yuri listen up despite his intention to ignore absolutely everything that comes out of Viktor’s mouth. Maybe Katsuki is just hiding in his room, crying like he did on the phone in Sochi. The thought makes an image of Katsuki crying on the bed flash up and Yuri feels a heaviness in his stomach replace the usual feeling of satisfaction, something he has noticed keeps happening lately when he thinks of Katsuki. Maybe staying near Katsuki isn’t such a good idea after all if just thinking about him makes Yuri this weak.

“He left a while ago,” Katsuki’s sister says,  “At this time he is probably at Minako’s place or at Ice Castle.”

Yuri can see Viktor’s expression change from the corner of his eyes and he knows that Viktor will go look for Katsuki, of course he will. Viktor isn’t used to people running away from him; all he knows is them running towards him. So what if Katsuki needs some time away, Yuri knows for sure that he needs distance from Viktor now and then or he would have punched him already. Several times.

After Katsuki’s sister leaves it’s a waiting game until Viktor does too. Yuri pretends to be asleep the whole time, not feeling up to listening to Viktor’s whining. He isn’t even sure why Viktor considers checking anywhere but Ice Castle, of course Katsuki will be there, training behind their backs so he can get an advantage over Yuri.

Yuri waits until he is sure that Viktor left and gets up, getting dressed before making his way to Ice Castle. He has made sure to pay attention to the route on their way to Katsuki’s home so we wouldn’t get lost again. Everything in Japan looks the same, how do people keep track of where they are?

The light coming from the Ice Castle’s entrance confirms to Yuri what he already knew anyway, it was clear that Katsuki would be at the rink. There is no other place they would be going to, no other place that is so full of the thoughts where they want to get. It’s where Yuri goes when he needs a place to be alone and clear his head, to keep himself from thinking too much.

Yuri looks at the entrance door, the soft yellow light coming from the hallway a stark contrast to the darkness. It’s as if Yuri is trying to reach out to the light, always trying to get a hold of something that seems to be just a small stretch away; but no matter how much Yuri stretches, he can’t reach it, can't connect with what he really wants.

With a push, Yuri opens the glass door, stepping into the building and leaving the darkness behind him. The familiar smell of ice hits him right when he crosses the threshold, making Yuri feel right at home. Yuri never thought there would be a rink apart from St. Petersburg that he could feel at home at but despite the difference in size, Hasestu’s Ice Castle makes him feel almost the same. He can feel the same kind of energy and determination that makes his home rink so familiar, comforting even. It’s not a place to play around but to break yourself to reach your dreams.

Yuri can hear the scratching of Katsuki’s blades on the ice before he is even through the door separating the entrance area from the rink itself. It’s a soothing sound, carrying no urgency or rush, so unlike the sound Yuri’s blades make when he is training.

Viktor had mentioned before that Yuri’s blades always sounded as if he is trying to get somewhere too fast, every movement filled with impatience and tension even when his step sequence is supposed to bring a sense of peace to the rest of his program. It hadn’t really made sense to Yuri then and he had snapped at Viktor, told him to worry about his own fucking step sequence. But now, listening to the sound Katsuki’s blades make on the ice, Yuri can almost feel a sense of serenity in each movement.

Clutching his chest, Yuri passes the last barrier to the rink, glass parting without a single sound so he can step through. Yuri has expected the cold, the familiar chill in the air almost a caress on his face by now, but he hasn’t been counting on holding his breath when he sees Katsuki skate.

When Yuri had been at the rink earlier that day, the room had been illuminated by daylight flooding through the large windows on the side opposite to the entrance. He remembers the light getting reflected by the ice, making everything feel even brighter. Now, the whole room is being lit by ceiling lights, giving the room something harsh and surreal.

Katsuki is in the middle of the rink, skating figures. The artificial light makes Katsuki’s skin look almost as pale as the ice itself, his body throwing shadows in several directions around him. Yuri is sure he has seen all of Katsuki’s performances by now and yet he finds himself unable to look away from Katsuki turning the curve for yet another eight.

It shouldn’t be anything special, Yuri has seen Viktor skate figures before and Yakov has made Yuri skate them more than once as well. Yuri hates it, always feels himself itching for something more, something better. But when he looks at Katsuki frowning in concentration, it’s as if he is seeing figures in a new light. When Katsuki is skating them, they don’t just look interesting, they are fascinating.

Yuri takes a few steps forward, leaning against the rink wall while his eyes follow every turn of Katsuki’s feet and every tilt of his hips. It’s crazy. Yuri knows Katsuki is only skating figures and yet Yuri feels as compelled to watch as if Katsuki is skating one of is step sequences. It even feels as if he can hear the music Katsuki is listening to simply by watching him.

Is this what Viktor is seeing when he watches Katsuki skate? Is this why he has suddenly decided to take the season off and fly to Japan? If so, Yuri almost feels as if he can understand Viktor. Yuri hates to admit it but watching Katsuki skate in person fills him with something he wasn’t aware of before, something Yuri now knows he also felt when he watched Katsuki in Sochi. It’s why he followed the older skater to the bathroom when he saw him disappear behind the door. And it’s why he screamed at Katsuki to retire despite wanting to tell him to not give up.

Yuri knows he isn’t good with words, knows that he tends to say the exact opposite of what he really wants to say. Everyone in St. Petersburg knows it and they have learned to read Yuri more or less accurately. Yuri is grateful for it since it means he doesn’t actually have to say what he feels. He will never admit it but it fills him with a sense of security, a feeling of ease.

Looking at Katsuki now is the exact opposite of that. It makes Yuri’s chest hurt with what he wants to say. But he knows Katsuki won’t understand if he goes to him and tells him to watch his fucking free leg or that his posture sucks. Katsuki won’t understand it if Yuri growls at him, would probably be hurt seeing that Katsuki is a giant crybaby. Yuri doesn’t feel secure around Katsuki at all and somehow having Viktor around makes it even worse. When Yuri is with them he always feels on the edge, irritated to a level that is unusual, even for Yuri.

And it always comes with the feeling that Yuri wants Katsuki to understand. He doesn’t want Katsuki to think of him as a child or an annoyance. Yuri isn’t really sure what he wants Katsuki to think of him but he knows that he wants to mean something to Katsuki.

Yuri has blamed Viktor for it because it has to be Viktor’s fault. He abandoned Yuri to get into Katsuki’s pants so being important to Katsuki would mean he pays less attention to Viktor. It’s what Yuri has made himself believe ever since he decided to follow Viktor to Japan, it’s what he is still supposed to believe. But the longer he watches Katsuki skate, the less he is even thinking about Viktor and the revenge he is trying to have on him.

When he watches Katsuki now, it’s hard to even think of anything but how beautiful his turns are, how graceful he bends, how elegant he moves. It makes Yuri want to reach out again, not even caring that he can’t touch the light in front of him as long as it brings him just a little bit closer, as long as it means that he can keep being with Katsuki right now.

The pain shooting through Yuri’s chest is sudden and much worse than any he has felt before. It feels like something is taking root in his heart, pushing its way into Yuri’s chest no matter if Yuri wants it to or not. Yuri tries to cry out, vision blurring in front of him as he sees Katsuki turn into his direction.

He doesn’t want Katsuki to see him like this, doesn’t want to be fucking breaking down in front of Katsuki. And yet, Yuri can feel his legs slowly giving in as he tries to hold on to the rink wall. Yuri wants to shout at Katsuki to stay away but when he opens his mouth again, the only sounds escaping him is the same damn cough he has been trying to get rid of for months now. It doesn’t feel the same anymore though, doesn’t feel like an annoyance anymore. Instead, it feels like it is slowly taking over Yuri’s lungs, each cough making that something Yuri is feeling in his chest grow.

When a hand touches Yuri’s shoulder, Yuri falls to the floor as he lets go of the barrier. The impact Yuri is expecting doesn’t come though as someone catches him before he hits the cold stone below him. It takes Yuri a moment to open his eyes, pain from his chest extending to his head and eyes. It’s only when Yuri hears a familiar voice that he opens them, eyelids flying open at the soft accent that makes his name sound so foreign.

Katsuki is in front of him, eyes large with worry as he says something in English to whoever is holding Yuri. Turning his head, Yuri’s green eyes meet Viktor’s blue ones and of course it would be Viktor. Viktor is always near Katsuki, never allowing Yuri a moment alone with the Japanese skater.

The thought rises like bile in Yuri’s throat, making the pain from coughing even worse. Always Viktor, never Yuri, that’s how it has always been. Yuri clenches his fingers and takes a deep breath despite his body revolting against the rise and fall of his chest. His chest that feels fuller now, fuller with something that Yuri doesn’t know.

Yuri looks away from Viktor, turning his head to stare at the wall but meeting Katsuki’s eyes instead. The sweat from his training is still running down his face, droplets glowing strangely in the cold light of the rink. Katsuki says something to Yuri but all Yuri can hear is the rushing of his own blood in his ears. Yuri can’t stand looking at Katsuki either. All he wants is to run and not be bothered by either of them so he can sort out his own thoughts about Katsuki.

But Yuri also knows that there is no way that they will let him go right now, even less alone. So Yuri lowers his eyes, forcing himself to look at the grey stone he is half lying on.

The cold grey floor that is the base of Ice Castle and that for some reason is now littered with white flower petals, the same kind Yuri had found in the storage room earlier that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to [Nicaforov](http://nicaforov.tumblr.com/) for creating the amazing banner for this fic and to [Cryingoverspilledvodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryingoverspilledvodka) for always listening to my ramblings and being a sounding board!
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://chessala.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I'd love to hear your opinion ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [Nicaforov](http://nicaforov.tumblr.com/) for creating the amazing banner for this fic and to [Cryingoverspilledvodka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryingoverspilledvodka) for always listening to my ramblings and being a sounding board!
> 
> You can also find me on [tumblr](http://chessala.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I'd love to hear your opinion ♥


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